Flesh & Bone: An Inspirational Contemporary Romance (A Guitar Girl Romance Book 2)

by Hope Franke

  Frau Beck was at the counter when Sebastian reached it. He was in the habit of keeping his cap and glasses on now, and he refrained from removing them when he ordered.

  “Coffee, black and strong. Two brötchen with ham and butter cheese, please.”

  “Certainly,” Frau Beck said with a smile. “And you can remove your sunglasses, young man. I already know who you are.” She smiled conspiratorially. “I won’t tell.”

  Sebastian pulled them off, hoping his eyes weren’t too bloodshot and awful. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “Are you in town for long?” Frau Beck poured his coffee, placed it on the tray and took out the pre-prepared buns.

  Sebastian took the coffee and sipped it even though he’d yet to pay. “Um, not very long. Our next tour starts in two weeks.”

  “I hope you’re enjoying your success.”

  Sebastian nodded. He would try. “Do you still keep in touch with Katja?” he asked.

  Frau Beck rang up his order and he handed her the cash.

  “Yes,” she said. “She’s quite happy with her life in Berlin now. And with being a new bride as you know.”

  That was right. The last time Sebastian saw Frau Beck was at Katja and Micah’s wedding.

  “Thank you, Frau Beck. It’s good to see you again.” Sebastian picked up his tray, searched for an empty table and sat with his back to the door. He put his sunglasses back on as a precaution and wolfed down his breakfast.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he reached for it, hoping the text was from Yvonne. It wasn’t. Dirk was calling a meeting in one hour. Seriously? They couldn’t have one freaking day off?

  He tipped back his coffee mug until every last drop dribbled into his mouth. Then, after taking a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure he hadn’t been spotted, he slipped back outside into the sunlight. The bright sky and hot weather legitimized his use of a cap and glasses, but even so, he kept his shoulders hunched and his chin down.

  To get to Dirk’s flat, Sebastian had to walk past the street church. His mind was full of so much junk he’d forgotten to cross to the other side of the road like he usually did. On most days he believed in a God, some kind of higher power, but he didn’t like religion. Religion caused nothing but trouble in the world as far as he was concerned. But, here he was, right in front of the street church, the metal blinds opened wide. The people inside were preparing for a soup line. He could smell the savory aroma escaping from the propped-open door.

  A girl sat on a low stool plucking strings on a guitar. Something made him stop to listen. She wasn’t plugged in, so he had to strain to hear her play, and he conceded that she was pretty good. An older lady entered the room and the girl looked up from under her sheath of straight, brown hair.

  Sebastian stroked his chin, thinking. He’d seen this girl before, but he couldn’t remember where. He’d probably just bumped into her in the grocery store one time. He pulled down his cap, shoved his fists deep into his pockets and kept walking. Didn’t matter. It wasn’t like their paths would ever cross again.

  He hurried to meet the guys at Karl’s new flat. He and Markus had each moved to flats on a nicer street with more square meters and higher price tags. Evicting his roommates was enough of a step up for Sebastian. He liked his Neustadt neighborhood and his unassuming apartment building. Yvonne had pleaded with him to make a change when the other guys were doing it, but he didn’t see the point. Maybe if she’d agree to move in with him once and for all, he’d consider it.

  He pushed the buzzer and Karl let him in. He and Karl went way back, as far as kindergarten. He was like the brother Sebastian never had, and they fought and annoyed each other like real siblings.

  “Hey,” Sebastian said. He went straight to the fridge and grabbed a beer. “What’s the big emergency?”

  “Yeah, help yourself, man,” Karl said.

  Sebastian sat and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Always do.”

  Dirk and Markus were already there and they nodded at Sebastian. Dirk ran a finger over his iPad. “Okay, our schedule’s getting really full.”

  “Let’s just get to it,” Sebastian said. They spent so much time together, no one expected or delivered pleasantries.

  “Lots of interview requests, mostly magazines so I can fill those in, but there’s a radio spot tomorrow morning. Sebastian you’re on for that, eight o’clock.”

  “Why Sebastian?” Karl challenged. “What’s wrong with me? Or Markus?”

  Sebastian picked at the label on his bottle. “Yeah, let Karl do it.” He didn’t like to get up before noon anyway.

  Dirk shook his head. “They specifically asked for you, Seb. Like it or not, guys, Sebastian is the lead singer and therefore the face of the band. We gotta give the people what they want.”

  Dirk looked down at his notes as if the matter was clear and settled, but Sebastian could feel the tension roll off Karl. Sebastian couldn’t help how the chips had fallen. Yeah, they’d started off as a duo, but somehow Sebastian had taken the lead in the eyes of the public.

  “Photo shoot in two days. Make sure you’re sober. There’ll be a stylist to help, but arrive in something close to what you want to wear. Shower and shampoo, too, please.”

  “Where is it?” Sebastian asked.

  Dirk gave the address and Karl shot Sebastian a glance. “I’ll drive. You can catch a ride. Just don’t be late.”

  Yes, sir.

  Dirk scratched his balding head. “We need a new CD. I hope you guys are writing.”

  Sebastian puffed. “It’s not like we’ve had a lot of free time.” It was an excuse, and he knew it, but he needed an excuse.

  “Hey, find the time. I’ve booked the studio for October, so you’ve got two and a half months to pull twelve songs together. We’ve been pushing your debut for a year now. We need something new.”

  Sebastian slugged back the rest of his beer. He remembered when this had been fun. That had lasted about three months. Now the pressure was starting to weigh heavily.

  “Next tour starts in two weeks. Dates in Nuremberg, Munich, Salzburg and Zurich.”

  “I’m bringing Yvonne,” Sebastian said. He hadn’t even asked her, but he would as soon as this meeting ended. Two weeks would be enough time for her to get her shifts covered at the bookstore where she worked.

  Karl leaned forward, elbows on knees and eyed Sebastian. “No girlfriends.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it would make the rest of us uncomfortable.”

  “Then don’t behave like animals.”

  “Yeah, and what about you two? You think we want to watch you go at it all the time?”

  “We’re not like that, and you know it. I promise we’ll be civil in your company.”

  “No.”

  Sebastian looked at Dirk and Markus for support. “If you guys want to bring someone, I don’t mind.”

  Markus shrugged boney shoulders.

  Dirk sighed. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me, but if one of us is uncomfortable with it, then we have to respect that.”

  “What if I’m uncomfortable? I’m uncomfortable living with pigs who do nothing but get stoned and sleep all day.”

  Karl stood and bore down on Sebastian. “Are you calling me a pig?”

  Sebastian sprang to his feet in response. “Maybe I am.”

  Two seconds later, Dirk had wedged himself between them. “I think we need to take five. We can’t have our band break down in the first year, okay? Let’s not become another stupid statistic.”

  Nerve explosions went off in her hip—it felt like dry bone against bone—and Eva bit her lip to fight back against the pain. After five years, she should have known better than to walk so far, at least without popping a pain reliever before leaving. By the time Eva made it back from the park and up the one flight of steps to the flat over the soup kitchen, she felt faint.

  Her mother was stuffing dirty laundry into the machine in the compact kitchen and when she saw Eva, her
smile flattened. “Is everything all right? You’re sweating.” Mrs. Baumann retrieved a clean cloth from a drawer, ran it under cold water and moved quickly to her daughter to pat her forehead.

  Eva pulled back. “Mama, I’m fine.” She hated when her mother treated her like a baby. She escaped into the WC and hung her cane on the hook her papa had fastened to the wall for that purpose. The room was small enough that she could maneuver where she needed to go without the help of the cane. In fact, in these tight quarters, her cane proved to be more harm than help. To accommodate her, bath rugs were always removed from the floor and hung over the edge of the tub otherwise she could trip and fall. They knew this because it had happened once, and Eva still had a small white scar on her forehead at her hairline where she’d hit it on one of the towel racks.

  Her hands shook as she twisted the cap off the pill jar and shimmied one into her palm. The water from the tap was warm, and she nearly choked on it as she slugged the pill back. A rack of coughing ensued, resulting in the pounding of her mother’s fist on the door.

  “Eva?”

  “I’m okay.” Eva splashed cool water on her face. “The water just went down the wrong way.” She waited until she heard her mother’s slipper-covered feet pad away on the wood floors before reaching for her cane and heading to her room where she eased onto her bed, relieved to finally be lying down.

  Breathe through the pain.

  It met her in varying degrees depending on the type of excursion, which was why she didn’t make too many. And there was always a nice dollop of emotional pain to go with it, as if the physical pain wasn’t enough.

  Her medication kicked in after a while, and she dozed a little. When her eyes fluttered back to consciousness, her gaze rested on her guitar in its stand in the corner. She hobbled to the chair beside it and cradled it on her lap. It was a Duncan Africa, handmade by local craftsmen in Uganda, and it played beautifully. After the accident, when it became apparent that she would never drive, her parents had bought her this guitar. Gabriele got driving lessons.

  It was a consolation prize of sorts, but now Eva couldn’t imagine living without it. Plus, its origins reminded her that there were people in the world who had a harder go of it than she did.

  Thought I came to wet my lips

  Maybe cool my feet

  But you pushed me from behind

  Eva hadn’t written in a long time and suddenly it was like the pen in her hand couldn’t write down the ideas fast enough. She was interrupted by a knock on the door and her mother’s head poked in.

  “Mama, I’m busy.”

  “Annette’s here. I thought you’d like to see her.”

  Annette was Eva’s ginger-haired friend from before. She really didn’t have any friends from after, except for the regulars that came to the soup kitchen twice a week, if you could call them friends. Eva used to have a lot of friends, but they gradually faded away as Eva withdrew from life and they continued on with theirs. Annette had been the one exception, stubbornly holding on to whatever thread of friendship was left between them.

  “Hey, Eva.”

  “Hi. Come on in.”

  Annette sat on the bed, getting comfortable against Eva’s big pillow like she’d done a million times. Her gaze moved from Eva’s guitar to the pen in her hand. “Are you writing a song?”

  Great deduction. “Yeah.”

  “Can I hear it?”

  “It’s too soon. I haven’t even finished it. But when it’s done for sure.”

  Annette twisted the end of her ponytail around her index finger. “So, what’s new?”

  “Gabriele and Lennon are getting married.”

  Annette’s face lit up and she squealed. “That’s fantastic. They are such a cute couple!”

  “It is. And I know.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. Lennon’s in a big hurry.” Eva grinned. “I think Gabriele’s holding out on him. We’re good Christian girls, you know.”

  “Nothing wrong with being a good Christian girl.”

  “Not at all. Gabriele is almost finished at the university, so the wedding is after that.”

  “Oh, it’s so romantic. And Lennon is so cute. I love his British accent.”

  “His German is hilarious. Good thing she is majoring in English. Who knows? They might move to England.”

  Annette sighed. “Such an adventure. So, what about you?”

  Eva blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Any cute boys?”

  “At the soup kitchen?”

  Annette frowned. “Eva, when are you coming to university?”

  Annette was in her first year. Eva had opted to take time off. She’d been behind in her studies since her accident and pleaded that she needed to catch up. Only, she hadn’t been catching up.

  “I don’t know,” she hedged and placed down her pen.

  Annette sprung off the bed and went to stare out the window. There was a commotion going on outside, not unusual for Alaunstrasse. Eva was so used to bouts of shouting and hollering and music of every style blaring randomly, she never bothered to look anymore.

  “Oh my gosh, Eva.”

  “What is it?”

  “I think that’s… it is! It’s Sebastian Weiss!”

  Eva sat the Duncan Africa back in its stand, grabbed her cane and moved faster than she’d thought possible until she stood beside Annette at the window.

  He wore a cap and glasses, but it was clearly him. He was walking right by their building! Someone had recognized him, and he stopped in front of the Italian restaurant across the street to sign autographs. Her heart palpitated. He was so close! If he just tilted his head up a little, he’d spot them staring down at him from her second-floor window.

  Eva took a step back. She’d be mortified if he caught her looking.

  Annette startled her by calling out, “Sebastian!” Then she squealed and waved her hand like a crazy person. Eva’s jaw dropped. Was Sebastian Weiss looking up at her bedroom window?

  “He waved at me, Eva! Sebastian Weiss waved at me!”

  Eva leaned forward a little to peek. Sebastian had moved on, his back now toward her. She sighed. She’d missed out again.

  The last week was so busy with interviews, photo shoots and band rehearsals, Sebastian barely had time to think. He did manage to get in one good fight with Yvonne, however. She was curled up on his sofa, thin arms crossed over her small chest. When she pouted like that she looked like a pixie, almost childlike. Sebastian exhaled hard as he sat beside her. He laid his palm on her thigh. “I hate being away from you, baby. I just want you with me.”

  She twisted her neck and glared. “You seriously want me to drop everything and follow you around the country like one of your groupies?”

  “Not like a groupie. Jeez, Yvonne. Like my girlfriend. Besides, last time you were mad because I didn’t ask you to go.”

  Yvonne’s lips tightened and she stared back across the room. “I was just mad you didn’t ask. So thanks for asking, but I can’t just leave my job.”

  “I’m making enough money for both of us. Why don’t you move in with me?” Sebastian ran a finger along Yvonne’s cheek. “I’ll take care of you.”

  She pulled back. “You don’t get it. I don’t need taking care of.”

  Sebastian’s phone buzzed in his pocket, a reminder that his band rehearsal was about to start. Yvonne unfolded her arms as she stood and draped her purse over her shoulder. A sadness brewed in his chest. He was losing her and he didn’t know why. Worse, he didn’t know how to stop it.

  He stood and faced her. If she were closer he’d have to duck to look in her eyes. She’d have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him. But she was already headed toward the door. “Can we continue this later?” he asked. “I’ll drop by your place after rehearsal.”

  Yvonne shook her head subtly. “I’m going to bed early tonight.”

  “Then tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She left without kissing him good-bye. She never
used to leave without kissing him good-bye. His lungs felt like they were collapsing and he held his breath. He and Yvonne were in trouble and he didn’t know how to fix it. He had to find a way. He didn’t want to lose her.

  Dirk had found the band an empty warehouse to rehearse in on a rundown street in an area that was part of the industrial district. Most of the surrounding buildings were abandoned, windowless brick structures that had eroded away over time. This one was different. Someone had spent the time and money to keep it functional. The fact that it sat among the other empty buildings meant they didn’t have to worry about being too loud. And tonight, Sebastian wanted it loud.

  Karl boomed out loud riffs on his Fender bass guitar, his slender fingers running up and down the fret board. Markus banged on the drums, running fills as he tuned the skins. Sebastian tuned his Gibson electric, turning the amp up.

  A song had been running through his mind for some time now. A quick email to Katja, and he’d gained permission to rock up one of her songs and add a bridge. The angst it expressed was exactly how he was feeling right now.

  “This is a cover,” he said into the mic. “See if you can keep up.”

  Sebastian introduced a new guitar riff that’d come to him in a dream. Markus kicked in with the kick drum, while Karl plucked out a complementary bass line. The band was familiar with the lyrics and only needed a few prompts when Sebastian introduced the bridge. He didn’t hold back, tilting his head back with his meanest guitar face and bellowing the new lines.

  I'll take the long way around

  Sling shot around what I thought

  was the darkest side of the moon

  Coming round took so long

  Sun light nearly stole my eyes

  “Love that version, man,” Markus said when it ended. “We should record it.”

  Karl shrugged. “Dirk wants us to do originals.”

  “We can do one cover,” Sebastian said. “Besides, I wrote the bridge, so it’s a co-write.”

  “Fine,” Karl huffed. “You have any ideas for a new song? We should write something of our own.”